


Our Father's Sons (original version)

by hekaete



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sirius Black Adopts Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22419655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hekaete/pseuds/hekaete
Summary: Harry Potter is nothing special, or so he thinks. That is, until a letter arrives, inviting him to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hardly believing his luck, Harry thinks his life is looking up - until he finds out the terrible truth. His parents gave him up because they thought he was non-magical, a squib. Even worse, his twin brother is the famous Boy-Who-Lived.After meeting his godfather, Harry goes to Hogwarts, determined to prove himself to his parents and the Wizarding World. But what will they think of their Slytherin son? What will his Gryffindor twin think of him?Harry is drawn into the mysteries of Hogwarts, all the while balancing his schoolwork and his new position as the heir of the infamous Black family.(Being rewritten.)
Relationships: Harry Potter & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Harry Potter & Original Character(s), James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 90
Kudos: 1191





	1. Chapter One

The letter came in early July.

Harry, as usual, got the mail. And, as usual, he looked through it before handing it to Uncle Vernon. It was nothing but his idle curiosity getting the better of him. He never stole mail, or opened it. But he couldn't help reading what he could. It was in his nature. Though, of course, he never got mail himself.

So he didn't expect the letter. It was addressed to him, Harry Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. There was no mistake. It was so specific, there couldn't be.

Harry bit his lip. The Dursley's surely wouldn't approve of him getting mail. They'd take it from him, like the took everything else. And he was still in trouble from the incident at the zoo. So he quickly stuffed the letter in the waistband of his trousers, covering it with his oversize shirt. He would read it later.

The rest of the day went as normal. He cooked, he cleaned, and he did his best to ignore the Dursley's.

Finally, he was able to go to bed, to his cupboard. He waited until the Dursley's had gone upstairs, until he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, and turned on the light, before ripping the letter open eagerly.

" _Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..._ " he read aloud in a whisper, his eyes widening. Could it be real? Could he be a wizard? He skimmed the entire letter, then took out the list of required books.

It was certainly a long way to go for a simple prank. And the Dursley's wouldn't do anything like that. They weren't creative enough, for one. And for the second, they hated anything to do with magic, even on tv. There was no way they'd even pretend he might have magic. It might give him ideas, to their thinking. And as he had no other friends, this just had to be real.

But what to do about it? There was no number, no return address. Just the instructions to return his reply "by owl." What did that mean? Did they use owls for their mail, somehow?

Shrugging slightly, and yawning, Harry decided there was nothing to be done about it that night. After all, he couldn't very well go find an owl outside, could he? He'd wake the Dursley's, if nothing else, wandering around Privet Drive in the middle of the night. No, best leave it until morning. 

Harry turned the light off, got under his thin blanket, and closed his eyes.

The next morning, Harry stashed his letter under his mattress, and headed out of the cupboard. As usual, he made breakfast. And, as usual, he was left with far little to eat. Uncle Vernon and Dudley both left the kitchen, and Harry turned to his Aunt Petunia.

"Have you ever heard of Hogwarts?" he asked impulsively. He had no reason to think that she would have ever heard of wizards before, but then again, she might have. And Harry had no other leads, and no way to reply to the letter.

Petunia dropped the glass she was holding. 

"How did you hear that name?" she whispered.

"I got a letter," Harry said, more bravely than he felt. He knew his aunt wasn't afraid to give him a smack if she thought he was misbehaving, or lock him in his cupboard for days or more, without food. But this seemed too important to ignore. If he really was a wizard, he wanted to know. He wanted to go to Hogwarts.

"You got a letter," Aunt Petunia repeated faintly. Then she seemed to rally herself, a faint gleam of anger in her eyes. "Of course you got a letter! Just like the one your mother got, I would wager. Full of nonsense. Cauldrons and robes and- and magic wands!"

"My mother?" Harry repeated. So Aunt Petunia had known about Hogwarts. And his mother had been, what, a witch? "She was a witch?"

"Of course she was, her and that _man_ she married. Fools, the both of them, leaving you here with us. They assured us that you would be normal, that you would fit right in - hah! I knew your were just like them the moment I set eyes one you! But Lily wouldn't listen to me, no, of course not. What would I know? They told us it was best you thought you were an orphan. But I knew, oh yes. I knew that one day you would get one of those!"

It seemed as if she had been waiting years to get that all off her chest. But Harry was stuck on one particular turn of phrase. He was silent for a moment, taking it all in.

"Does that mean my parents didn't die in a car crash?" he asked carefully.

"No they didn't, boy. But we thought it was a kindness, to say they died, rather than abandoned you here. But they can have you back now, I dare say! I told Lily, I wouldn't have on of _her_ kind in my house!"

Harry's hands trembled.

"They left me here?" he asked, his voice soft. "With _you_? But why?" he asked, his voice breaking, eyes filling with tears. He wiped them away furiously, not wanting Petunia to see him cry.

"They thought you were a _squib_. Non-magical. It would have been a blessing, I daresay, if you were. But we knew. We tried to tell them! I even wrote Lily a letter when you were three, telling her you had _levitated_ my poor Dudley's toys! But we never heard back from them. Not a peep, until now. And don't you think I'll forget, _boy_ , that you were going through the mail!"

The light bulb over the sink shattered.

Petunia shrieked, flinching.

"Get out! Just get out, boy!"

Harry turned, and fled. He ran outside, to the back yard, and sat among the flowers that he had planted, doing his best not to cry. His parents were alive.

And they had left him at the Dursley's. Just because they didn't think he was magic.

Well, he was. He thought of all the strange things that had happened to him, from turning his teacher's hair blue to growing his hair back overnight, to the lightbulb that had exploded just a few minutes ago. All of that had been _him_ , not just coincidence.

His parents were alive, and they were wrong. He did have magic.

But what kind of parents were they, to leave him to think they were dead? Over something like that. He was sure Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never abandon Dudley, no matter what, no matter how they treated Harry. They might not be good parents, but they weren't that low.

The Potter's, apparently, were.

Harry shook his head. He must be in a really bad state if he was thinking kindly of his Aunt and Uncle.

What would he do now? He was determined to go to Hogwarts. He would prove his parents wrong.

But he would never forgive them.

Never.

* * *

Eventually, it started to grow dark, and Harry ventured into the house. His aunt, apparently pitying him for the first time, didn't say anything to Vernon about the lightbulb, only changing it herself without complaint. Apparently even she could understand what kind of blow he had suffered. 

He ate dinner in silence, all the while thinking of how he could reply to Hogwarts. Later, as he was helping his Aunt with the dishes, he asked.

"You're going, are you?" she sniffed. "I suppose it's for the best. You'll be gone most of the year, that way. Just address it to the school and mail it, and it will get there. They know that normal people have no way of replying otherwise. Don't tell your Uncle. I'll talk to him."

It was probably the nicest thing she had ever done for him, and Harry was properly grateful, too. He thanked her, and headed back to his cupboard, where he kept a notebook and some pens.

Carefully, in his best handwriting, he addressed the letter, and wrote:

 _Professor McGonagall,  
__I would be pleased to accept my place at Hogwarts. Only, your letter doesn't tell me how to get my supplies, or how to get to the school. If you could please send a reply with instructions, I would be grateful_  
Yours Sincerely,  
Harry J. Potter

The next day Harry stole an envelope and a stamp from his Uncle, reasoning that Vernon would be grateful that Harry would be gone and so would likely not mind, and sent the letter.

Now, only to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write a Wrong Boy-Who-Lived story, so here we are. I'm still plotting this out, so I'm not sure if Harry's going to be in a relationship. If so, it won't be for a while - he's only eleven, after all.


	2. Chapter Two

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, enjoying a sugar quill as he wrote out a letter to the school governor's. They expected a report at the beginning of the year, detailing changes to the school and staff. And as Albus had to hire a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor every year, the letter was usually quite detailed.

He sighed, sucking on the quill. Quirinus Quirrell was an interesting candidate. He had previously been the Muggle Studies professor, but had gone off to follow his passions about a year previous. Albus had his suspicions about that, in truth. He knew Quirinus had always felt inadequate. He was a brilliant young man, but he had ambition enough for Slytherin.

He had returned a couple of months before the school year, responding to an ad in the Daily Prophet for a Defense teacher. He was certainly qualified, though Albus had been alarmed at how much the young man had changed. He had always had a stutter, but it seemed much worse now, and he was wearing a turban, a habit he had apparently picked up on his travels. Well, unusual fashions weren't so uncommon in the Wizarding World, Albus himself was testament to that, and who knew what he might have face to increase his stutter. Still, Albus thought something was off.

However, he was the only candidate that came forward, so Albus had little choice but to hire him. Quirinus had been delighted, naturally, and had sent in his lesson plan only just that day.

Albus was just writing down Quirinus' qualifications in his letter to the governor's when his door opened with a bang. He looked up, alarmed, to see it was his Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor, Minerva McGonagall. She looked outraged and alarmed.

"What is it Minerva?" he asked, dropping the sugar quill and half rising. 

"The Potter's!" she said, half triumphantly, half hysterically. "I've just received a letter from their son!"

"Surely that isn't so unusual? It's time for young Adam to come to Hogwarts, surely."

"Not Adam, Headmaster. _Harry_."

Albus paled considerably, the taste of sugar on his lips souring. 

"Ah."

"You told me he was a squib, Albus! You said it was for the best!"

"And so I did," he said, sighing heavily. "It seems I was mistaken."

"Mistaken! _Mistaken!_ The boy has been raised by the worst sort of muggles, and that's all you have to say for yourself?"

"I and a team at St. Mungo's all believe that Harry lost his magic the night that Lord Voldemort attacked, Minerva," he said plaintively. "But if he received his letter, then we were very wrong."

"I should say so!"

"I never approved of James and Lily sending their son to her muggle relatives, you know that, Minerva. Disinheriting squibs is a barbaric practice, one I never thought of them. But I could do nothing to stop them, legally. And James made it quite clear that it wasn't any of my business."

Minerva gave a derisive snort at that.

"And since when do you listen?" she asked.

Albus smiled wearily.

"I do tend to nose into things, don't I? However, even I have my limits. When I pressed, James threatened to take action against me in the Wizengamot, a suit I would surely have lost, and none the better for young Harry."

Minerva sagged, her righteous fury draining out of her.

"I suppose you're right. The Wizengamot would have seen his right to do with a supposed squib child as he wished. But what now?"

"The Hogwarts letters are meant to be private, I believe," Albus mused. "What did it say?"

"He asked where to get his supplies, and how to get to Hogwarts."

"Reasonable requests. I believe we ought to send a professor, as we do with muggleborn students. If you would like to go yourself, I see no reason to stop you. And if you were to tell young Harry he has a loving godfather who would love to meet him, I'm sure he would be pleased to hear it."

"You mean for me to tell him about Sirius?" she asked, surprised.

"We've all seen what the Potter's have become, Minerva," he said sadly. "I doubt their influence would be a welcome one. But Sirius has never forgiven James for giving Harry up. Neither has Remus, as a matter of fact. And Sirius has some rights, as godfather, not that James has ever honored that."

There was a glint in Minerva's eye that would have made him wary if it was directed at him. As it was, he thought James and Lily Potter were due for a wake up call. Perhaps this would be it.

And all the better for Harry, if he had Lord Black on his side.

"I'll go myself," Minerva confirmed.

* * *

The next day, around noon, there was a knock at the door. All morning, Uncle Vernon had seemed out of sorts, and had been glaring at Harry. Or at least, glaring at him more than usual. Harry figured his aunt must have told him about Hogwarts.

"I'll get it!" he said quickly, before Uncle Vernon could tell him to, and he shot up and nearly rant to the door. Taking a breath, he opened it.

On the other side was a tall, black haired woman in a neatly pressed skirt and blouse. She looked quite stern, but her face softened into a smile when she saw Harry.

"You must be Mr. Potter," she said kindly. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I'm a professor at Hogwarts."

Harry stared up at her in awe for a moment. Here was a real witch, and the one who had written his letter, at that!

"Hello," he said shyly. "I didn't - I mean, you didn't have to come in person," he said. 

"Of course I did, Mr. Potter. It's standard for those who know nothing of the magical world to have an introduction by a professor," she replied. "Now, if you would be so good as to invite me inside?"

Harry shifted on his feet nervously.

"I don't know if that's a good idea. My relatives... I don't think they like magic much," he said tactfully.

Professor McGonagall frowned.

"I'm sure I can handle them, Mr. Potter," she said somewhat sternly. Harry wordlessly stepped back, allowing her into the house.

"Boy!" came the shout of Uncle Vernon. "Who's at the door?"

"It's a professor from my new school!" Harry called back, not quite willing to leave Professor McGonagall's relatively safe presence for his Uncle's wrath.

The professor raised an eyebrow, and he blushed slightly, knowing it was rude to shout.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"That's quite alright, Mr. Potter," she said kindly. "I trust at Hogwarts you'll know to keep your voice down indoors."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, grateful that she was overlooking his rudeness.

Aunt Petunia entered the hallway. Apparently, Uncle Vernon had been unwilling to face a witch when his wife could do it. Or perhaps she had insisted, Harry had no way of knowing.

She sneered at Professor McGonagall. Harry wasn't quite sure where she got the nerve - if he'd been facing a witch, with no magic to speak of himself, he might be more polite.

Before Professor McGonagall could speak, she started.

"We're more than happy to see the boy off for most of the year," she said, "but we were promised that he had no magic. As he does, we'd prefer it if his parents could take him back."

Harry flushed, in both anger and embarrassment. It was humiliating, knowing that none of his family wanted him. And he was started to feel something like hatred when it came to his parents, an attitude he was all too familiar with, living with the Dursley's. 

Before he could say anything rash, Professor McGonagall spoke.

"That is something I will discuss with Harry. In private," she added. "As it is, you are his guardians. I should think you would act like it. Is there somewhere we can speak privately, Harry?" she asked, turning to him.

"Um, yeah. You can come up to my bedroom, I suppose," he said, awkwardly. Harry was unused to having a proper bedroom. He had been given it the day after the Hogwarts letter had arrived, much to Dudley's consternation.

He lead Professor McGonagall up the stairs and into the smallest bedroom, crowded with Dudley's old toys. He say on the small bed, gesturing for the Professor to take the rickety desk chair. She did so, but not before taking out her wand, waving it, and changing the chair into something that looked much more sturdy.

Harry gazed at her in awe.

"Wow! What kind of magic was that?" he asked eagerly, desperate for some small morsel of knowledge.

"It was called transfiguration," she said, smiling softly at him. "As a matter of fact, I am the transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, so I will be teaching it to you in the fall."

Harry grinned at her.

"Wicked!"

"Indeed. Now, Mr. Potter, as you know, your case is somewhat unusual. Normally, professor's only come to muggle born student's houses. But as you live with your muggle relatives, we made an exception."

Harry's bright mood faded.

"Because my parents didn't want me," he said dully. "Because they thought I didn't have any magic."

He ducked his head, not wanting to see the pity he assumed would be on her face.

"Your aunt explained that, did she?" the professor said, somewhat testily. "I'm sure. Well, I won't sugarcoat things for you Potter. I'm not sure you would appreciate it if I did. It's true, that you were thought to be a squib when you were an infant - a squib is someone born to magical parents without any magic themselves," she added as an aside. "It's been standard practice for many hundreds of years to leave squib children with muggles, so that they don't grow up resentful of their magical relatives. It's an old practice, and one that has fallen out of favor in recent years. But your father comes from an old family, and it was no doubt taught to him that squibs don't belong in the wizarding world."

That didn't really make Harry feel any better. But he was grateful that she was telling the truth. Harry was rather sick of lies, at the moment.

"That's horrible," is all he said.

"It is. That's why many people are campaigning for squib rights. You can learn more about that later if you'd like, but for now I'd best move on. There is... a lot to go over."

"Alright, professor."

"I'm afraid your parents did you a great disservice," she said gently. "It was wrong of them, but I don't think much is going to make you feel better at the moment, is it?"

Harry shook his head.

"I'm afraid it's going to get worse. You have a twin brother, Mr. Potter, named Adam."

Harry stared at her in shock.

"I have a brother?" he whispered, dazed.

"Yes. Your older brother by some minutes, I believe. Do you need a moment?"

"No. What is it?" Harry asked. "There's something else, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."

Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment. 

"Yes. Well, your brother is... somewhat famous. He's known as the Boy-Who-Lived, actually."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Adam Potter survived a curse that many thought was lethal. In doing so, the greatest dark wizard of the age was defeated," she said succinctly. "He is well known for that fact."

"Oh," Harry said stupidly. He didn't know what to think. His brother was famous? And he had grown up in a cupboard.

The resentment in him grew.

"It was believed..." Professor McGonagall started. "It was believed by the healers - like muggle doctors, Mr. Potter - that when your brother defeated You-Know-Who, the magical backlash stripped you of your magic. But it seems that the healers were either wrong, or your magic was only taken temporarily. It's difficult to say."

"It shouldn't matter!" Harry finally exploded. "They're my parents! They're supposed to love me no matter what!" and, much to his mortification, he began to cry, silent sobs as tears ran down his cheeks.

Professor McGonagall moved to sit next to him on the bed. She didn't hug him, exactly, but she placed her hand on him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. She conjured a simple white handkerchief and handed it to him.

"I know, Mr. Potter. It's neither right, nor fair. And you have every right to be angry at your mother and father. Merlin knows I am, and I'm just their old professor. But it's not all bad."

Harry wiped his eyes, his breathing coming back under his control.

"It's not?" he asked, blowing his nose. Harry didn't see how it could get any better.

"No. You have a godfather, and he's been looking for you for ten years."

"Really?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "His name is Sirius Black, and he loves you very much. He was very, very angry at your father when he found out that you had been sent away. I believe he hasn't spoken to him since then."

This did rather make Harry feel better. At least he wasn't alone.

"Can I meet him?"

"Well, you can write to him," Professor McGonagall. "I'm afraid I don't know enough about the situation to tell you why he hasn't found you yet. But now that you're a part of the magical world again, you're free to write him as you'd like. I'm sure he'll be more than pleased to hear from you."


	3. Chapter Three

Sirius Black thought that he had left Number 12, Grimmauld Place behind him forever when he had run away at the age of 15.

Well, at 15 he had thought a lot of things to be true. He thought that he would never be Lord Black, that he would be an Auror.

That he and James Potter would be brothers forever.

But all that changed one Halloween night. He had gotten a Patronus message from James, one that he had never expected to receive - Peter had betrayed them to Voldemort.

He had arrived at Godric's Hollow as quickly as he could, apparating just outside James and Lily's house. The cozy home where he had spent so many evenings was a wreck, half the roof blown off. James and Lily were on the front lawn, with Albus Dumbledore.

"He's gone, Padfoot!" James had cried out triumphantly. "He tried to kill Adam, but it didn't work! He's dead!"

Sirius hadn't understood. And when he did, he had to sit down and take a breath. Voldemort, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, dead. And somehow Adam had done it. It was some kind of magical phenomenon, some kind of miracle.

It seemed like it would be one of the best nights of Sirius's life. But then James and Lily had taken the twins to St. Mungo's, to make sure they had no damage.

That was the last time he had seen his godson.

Later, when the parties were over, when the damage to Godric's Hollow had been mostly repaired, when he was done with his shift at the Ministry, he had come back to them. He wanted to see Harry and Adam, to see if they were hurt from You-Know-Who's attack. But Harry was gone.

They had sent him to the muggles, like so much trash.

"He's a squib, Sirius," James had said. "It will be better for him to be with his own kind."

Sirius had broken his nose, stormed off, and found Remus.

Remus had been just as outraged, naturally. Since then, he had barely seen James or any of the other Potter's. He had resigned as an Auror and gone to speak to his grandfather.

Because if anyone could get Harry back, it was Lord Black.

Old Arcturus had been thrilled to know that Sirius was willing to take up the mantle when he passed, and hadn't even minded that Sirius was looking for his squib godson. It had helped that Sirius had confided in him that he doubted that Harry was actually a squib, that he had seen him do accidental magic already.

He later found out, when he had gone to confront Albus Dumbledore, that the theory was that in his efforts to defeat the dark lord, young Adam had used all of the magic available, including his brother's. Such incidents of sharing magic weren't unheard of, especially among twins. But the Killing Curse was so powerful, it took all the magic available. Even Adam had been drained.

It was bullshit, Sirius was certain of it. But even if it was true, he wasn't going to abandon Harry. He would live as a muggle, if he had to, because Harry was his world.

Unfortunately, James wouldn't tell him where Harry had been placed.

"He's my godson!" Sirius had argued. "My responsibility, if you won't care for him."

James had spoken to him as if he was a child.

"He's a squib, Sirius. If he grows up in the magical world, he'll just resent us all. It's better for him this way."

And that was the last time he had spoken to James willingly. Oh, they ran into each other in the Wizengamot, of course, once Sirius took over for his grandfather. But Sirius was never swayed by James' attempt at friendly overtures. He knew the sort of man James Potter had grown to be. And it wasn't one he wanted to associate with.

He had, of course, attempted to find Harry. Legally, he had little recourse. James and Lily had signed over custody to _someone_ , and that was that. Sirius didn't really care. If he had to, he would kidnap Harry and take him out of Britain, somewhere they couldn't be touched.

But it had been ten years, and he'd had no luck. Magical means lead to nothing, leading Sirius to assume that Harry was behind a ward of some kind. He'd even hired a muggle private investigator, through an intermediary of course, and still, nothing. Harry Potter had disappeared. Perhaps Sirius didn't have enough information - after all, he had no information besides Harry's full name - Hadrian James Potter. He had no idea where he might have gone, or who his new guardians might be.

Still, he refused to give up. He had a muggle private investigator on retainer, and if anything came up, he would know. Until then, he did what he could to distract himself from his missing godson. He worked in the Ministry, took care of House Black, and married Remus.

It wasn't enough.

He had moved back into Number 12, Grimmauld Place when his mother died. There was something therapeutic about it, about taking down her portrait, about renovating the place and tearing down the remnants of his wretched childhood. Remus helped. And he was even getting along with Kreacher these days. He had come to understand that the house elf was even more under his mother's thumb than he was, and was to be pitied rather than resented.

He was having breakfast when the owl came. At first, Sirius and Remus both ignored it. After all, Sirius got a great deal of mail, and Remus had his share, and it was hardly ever something urgent.

But the owl kept bothering them, even when Sirius tried to feed it a bit of bacon. So he opened the letter and promptly spat out his coffee on the now ruffled owl.

"Remus!" he cried out, a joyous look on his face. "It's from Harry! He's written to us! Merlin, he's going to Hogwarts!"

Remus reached over to read the letter, but Sirius tugged it out of his grasp.

"I'm not finished!" he whined.

"Then read it aloud," Remus demanded, as eager as Sirius was for word of his cub.

"Alright, alright. _Dear Mr. Black,_  
 _My name is Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall told me that you were my godfather and that you were looking for me. She came to tell me about Hogwarts. I live with my aunt and uncle, the Dursley's. They don't like magic much._  
 _Professor McGonagall is going to take me to Diagon Alley today, where I can send the letter at the post office. She says that wizards use owl's for letters. I think that's brilliant. Much better than the postman._  
 _If you want to write or visit me, I live at Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey._  
 _From,_  
 _Harry_  
 _P.S. Is it true you punched my dad after he sent me away?"_

Remus was the first to recover.

"Trust old Minnie to tell him that story," he said, chuckling a little, before sobering. "But his aunt and uncle? That must mean -"

"Lily's sister," Sirius finished. "He was right under our noses, this entire time. I never imagined she would send him to her, after the fight they had in our seventh year. Do you remember? Lily was all tears on the Express."

"What was the sister's name again? Some kind of flower," Remus added. "She hated magic. More than anything. Called Lily a freak, I remember."

"And she sent her son to this woman?" Sirius said, horrified.

"Apparently."

"Well, we have an invitation to visit. I say we do it."

"Agreed. What's James going to say when Harry shows up at Hogwarts, though?" Remus asked, worried.

Sirius barked out a bitter laugh.

"Merlin, he's going to be horrified. Probably worried about the bad publicity, the prat. But I'm going to see if Harry would be my heir. If he agrees, I'll adopt him. Magically."

Remus whistled.

"You have it all planned out already, don't you Padfoot?"

Sirius smirked.

"I've got my godson back, Moony. We've got Harry back. Nothing can stop me now."


	4. Chapter Four

The Dursley's were ignoring him. That was perfectly fine with Harry, who ignored them right back. Except for meals, he kept himself locked up in his bedroom, reading his new books, trying some spells with his wand, or talking to his new pet.

Hedwig, a small white and black juvenile California Kingsnake, had started speaking to him when they visited the Magical Menagerie. It had been the only snake in the place, and Harry had heard it cursing the owner and it's fellow pets for their noise.

Harry, thinking that it was some kind of talking snake, had eagerly begun a conversation. After all, a talking snake wouldn't be that unusual, after everything he had seen so far. But then he had laughed at something the snake had said and had looked at Professor McGonagall. She had gone quite pale and was staring at him.

That was about when Harry realized only he could understand the small snake.

He had apologized, assuming from her expression that he had done something wrong. The Professor had rallied herself and smiled at him.

"It's alright, Potter," she said. "It's a rare talent, parseltongue. Speaking to snakes," she clarified. "I wouldn't advertise it. But there's nothing wrong with it," she said firmly. "Would you like the snake as a pet?"

"But the letter says -"

"Those are more guidelines for muggleborns," she replied. "You may get the snake, if you wish."

Harry did wish. He bought the snake, as well as an enchanted vivarium for her, and plenty of magically preserved mice to feed her with.

He hadn't told the Dursley's about his pet snake yet. They hadn't been there when he'd arrived home from Diagon Alley, so he had been able to smuggle her up to his room. And as his aunt didn't clean in his room, they had no reason to enter it. Harry was certain that they wouldn't approve of Hedwig, or any pet that Harry had. And he was doubly sure they would hate that he could speak to her.

Talking to a snake wasn't like talking to a person. She was quite intelligent for a snake, but she didn't understand many human things. She liked it when he told her about different kinds of magical serpents, however. Especially the basilisk, which he had read about in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.

Hedwig was by far his favorite part of this new world. She was his first friend, and she was a good one. And since he could talk to her, he could leave the door of her vivarium open, so she could come and go from it as she pleased. She particularly liked coiling around his arm or his neck and soaking up his warmth.

She had just slithered out of her tank and onto him, and had asked him for a mouse, when he heard the shout from down the stairs.

"Boy! You have visitors!"

It was his aunt. Harry glanced at the door nervously. He didn't know who would visit him. Professor McGonagall didn't seem like she would return or see him before the start of the school year. But he _had_ written to his godfather.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked him, her tongue flicking out to taste the air. "You are afraid."

"I have a visitor," he replied, absently slipping into parseltongue. "I just don't know who it is."

"Take your stick," she advised him.

Harry agreed, grabbing his wand, and left the bedroom, cautiously descending the stairs. 

Near the front door were two men. One was obviously scarred, with greying brown shaggy hair, and the other was a bit taller, with neat black hair. They were both wearing wizarding robes.

"Hello?" he asked carefully.

The two men turned to look at him from where they had been apparently glaring Uncle Vernon into submission.

The black-haired man looked at him with wide eyes.

"Harry? Is that you?" he asked wonderingly.

Harry nodded slowly, gripping his wand in his fist.

"I'm Sirius Black, and this is Remus Lupin. You wrote to me," he said, and there was something desperate in his tone of voice.

"Yes," Harry said. "Are you really my godfather?"

"I am, yes. I've been looking for you for a long time, Harry. I'm so glad you contacted me."

Harry finished walking down the stairs, his grip on his wand loosening.

"Can I give you a hug, Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice breaking.

Harry couldn't remember ever being hugged before. He slowly nodded.

Sirius stepped forward, before falling to one knee so he was more at Harry's height, and wrapped his arms around him. Harry froze for a moment, not sure how to respond, before slowly returning the hug. It was nice.

Harry thought he could get used to it.

Sirius pulled back slightly, still holding on to Harry.

"This is my friend, Remus Lupin. He's been looking for you, too."

Remus Lupin smiled at him kindly.

"I'm glad to finally meet you again, Harry," he said. "You've grown up into a fine young man, I see."

Harry blushed a bit.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Did you know my parents too?"

Remus looked pained.

"Yes. We went to Hogwarts together. Your father, Sirius, and I were very close."

"Until he sent me away."

If it was possible, Remus looked even more pained than before.

"Until he sent you away, yes. It was unforgivable. And it seems he was wrong about your magic, as well. I see you have your wand?"

Harry nodded.

"Professor McGonagall took me to Diagon Alley," he said. "What happens now?"

"Well, Harry, if it's alright with your... _guardians_ , we'd like you to spend the rest of the summer with us."

Harry's face lit up.

"That would be brilliant!" Anywhere had to be better than the Dursley's. And he was eager to spend time with his godfather after everything Professor McGonagall had told him about the man. He was quite eager to learn more about the wizarding world, as well.

Sirius grinned at him.

"Great! I'm sure Petunia remembers me from your parent's wedding," he mused. "Let me go talk to them."

Harry watched Sirius leave the entrance hall, going into the kitchen to talk to Aunt Petunia. He glanced at Mr. Lupin, his wide smile fading a little bit.

"Professor McGonagall told me that you both have been looking for me," Harry offered, trying to make the situation less awkward. He didn't know Mr. Lupin, but then again, he didn't really know his godfather, either. But they wanted to take him away from the Dursley's, so they couldn't be all bad. And so Harry wanted to get along with them.

"That's right," the man said. "I was abroad when the attack on your home happened, and by the time I got back you were, unfortunately, long gone."

"And my parents wouldn't tell you or Mr. Black where I went?" Harry confirmed.

"Yes. They thought you would be better off here," Mr. Lupin said.

"Oh," Harry said, thinking that he probably was if his parents would give him up for something that petty. But why couldn't they just give him to Sirius? "I don't think I was," he said doubtfully.

Mr. Lupin gave a tight smile.

"No, neither do I."

Sirius returned, his irritated look clearing up immediately as his gaze landed on Harry.

"Your Aunt and Uncle have given their permission," he confirmed. "Just go on up to your room and pack, and we'll be off."

Harry nodded, grinning. His things were mostly packed anyway, but there were a few things scattered about his room. Halfway up the stairs, he turned around towards them.

"Could you shrink my vivarium for the trip? It's kind of hard to manage," he explained, waving Mr. Black forward.

"Your vivarium?" he repeated, following Harry up the stairs. "What for?"

"My pet snake, Hedwig!" he said excitedly. "Professor McGonagall said I could take her to Hogwarts, even though the letter didn't say snakes. That's alright, isn't it?" he said, suddenly doubtful.

Mr. Black looked a little nervous, but nodded.

"If Professor McGonagall said it's okay, then it is," he said firmly. "Where is Hedwig?"

"Right here," Harry said, pulling his shirt down to display the snake loosely wrapped around his neck. She was only about a foot long, distinct black markings over her white scales.

"Oh," Sirius said faintly. "I see. It's not venomous, is it?"

"No, California Kingsnakes are constrictors," he said matter of factly. "But don't worry. Hedwig is very nice, she wouldn't try to hurt me."

He lead Sirius into the small bedroom, pointing out the large vivarium on the desk. It was 20 gallons, about 30 inches long, and filled with greenery.

"This is where, uh, Hedwig lives when she's not with you, huh?" Sirius asked gamely. "It's nice. Do you want to hang onto her while I shrink the tank?"

"Yes, please. She doesn't like being shrunk," Harry said. "She says it tickles."

Hedwig turned to him.

"It does!" she complained.

Harry laughed a bit.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't shrink you."

He was so used to talking to Hedwig already, that he forgot that he was supposed to keep his ability to speak to snakes a secret, though he didn't really know why. He glanced nervously at Mr. Black.

The older man had paled a little bit, and was staring down at Harry.

"Sorry," Harry muttered. "I forget I'm not supposed to do that."

"No," Sirius croaked, before clearing his throat. "No," he said more firmly. "If you can speak parseltongue, then you can speak parseltongue. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Okay," Harry said shyly, though he still didn't understand the big deal.

"Let's get you packed."

Sirius waved his wand and the vivarium shrunk to a more manageable size, before flicking it an enunciating, " _Pack_!"

All of Harry's things - the clothes in the wardrobe, the books on his desk, everything - flew into his open trunk, before snapped shut.

"Wow," breathed Harry. Sirius winked at him.

"You'll learn too, don't worry," he said.

Harry couldn't wait.


	5. Chapter Five

Sirius put something called a feather-light charm on his trunk, and Harry carried it easily down the stairs, following his godfather.

They met Remus in the front hall, and he smiled at them.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"We have all of Harry's things," confirmed Sirius.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"To our home in London."

"Do you and Mr. Lupin live together, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Mr. Black responded after glancing at Mr. Lupin. "We do."

"Okay," Harry said, oblivious to the slight tension between the two men. "How are we going to get there?"

"We're going to do something called _apparating._ It's just disappearing in one spot and reappearing in another," he explained.

"Like teleporting?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Exactly like that, yes," Mr. Lupin said. "I'll take your things, and Sirius will take you. Sound alright?"

Harry nodded, taking Mr. Black's hand when it was offered to him, and letting go of his trunk when Mr. Lupin took it.

"It might feel a little strange, but I promise I'm very good at it," Mr. Black said. "Ready?"

Harry nodded, and Mr. Black turned on his foot. The next thing Harry knew, he felt as if he was being sucked through a tiny straw. It was a very odd feeling.

When the feeling stopped, they were in a small, untidy garden. Harry didn't recognize half the plants in it, and he was used to gardening for Aunt Petunia.

Mr. Lupin appeared with a _pop_ next to them, holding Harry's trunk and the vivarium.

"Cool," Harry said, grinning up at Mr. Black.

"You'll learn to do it when you're older," he said, reaching down to ruffle Harry's hair.

He followed Mr. Lupin into the house, which was a bit dark.

"Kreacher!" Mr. Black called out, apparently randomly. Then there was another _pop_ , and some kind of creature appeared in the hallway.

"How can Kreacher be helping Master Lord Black?" he asked, his tone servile and fawning.

"Take Harry's trunk and his tank up to his bedroom," Mr. Black said in a commanding tone.

"Yes, Master Lord Black," the being said, before snapping his fingers, disappearing with the trunk and vivarium.

"Who was that?" Harry asked, his eyes wide. " _What_ was that?"

Mr. Black laughed a little bit, shaking his head.

"Merlin, Harry, I keep forgetting that you were raised by muggles! Kreacher is a House Elf, and he works for me."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, though he still had questions.

"Come on, let me give you a tour of the houses," Mr. Black said jovially, slinging his arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry was lead through the townhouse, from the kitchen - "Kreacher's domain" - to the library - "be careful in here, Harry" - to his bedroom.

"Now, it's a little bit bland at the moment," Mr. Black warned him. "But I wanted to give you the chance to decorate it yourself."

He opened the door with a flourish and revealed a large bedroom with an opulent bed in the middle. It was larger than Dudley's room, even.

"For me?" Harry asked, suddenly shy.

"All for you, Harry. We can make it any color you wish - the paint is enchanted, so we can change it whenever you'd like. And I thought we could go shopping tomorrow and see if there's anything you want for it."

"I already have everything I need for school," Harry offered, not sure he wanted Mr. Black to spend money on him.

"Nonsense, Harry!" He said, grinning. "You need to get something fun!"

Harry shrugged. It would be nice, he supposed, to be able to buy what he pleased without Professor McGonagall looking over his shoulder with her kind but stern gaze. He didn't want to waste money. But he also didn't want to displease his godfather in any way.

"Now, how about a spot of lunch, Harry, and we can talk," he said decisively, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Come on down to the dining room with me. What would you like to eat?"

Harry shrugged. He wasn't used to being able to choose what he wanted, always stuck with the Dursley's leftovers.

He followed Mr. Black down the stairs, the man pointing out his bedroom on the way, and they ended up in the kitchen, where a big wooden table sat in the middle.

"We like to use the kitchen to eat, rather than the formal dining room," Mr. Black explained. "It's more casual that way."

They met Mr. Lupin in the dining room, where he was waiting for them.

"I've told Kreacher to prepare sandwiches. I hope that's alright with everyone?" He said cheerily.

Harry nodded quickly. Sandwiches were simple, he could eat those without feeling sick.

Mr. Black sat down at the head of the table, and Harry took the seat to his right, opposite Mr. Lupin.

"Mr. Black-" he started, hesitantly.

"Mr. Black?" the man repeated. "No, call me Sirius, Harry. Or Padfoot, that's my nickname. And Remus is Remus or Moony," he said.

Harry glanced towards the other man for confirmation, and he nodded quickly.

"You can call me Remus, of course, Harry."

"Alright, Remus," Harry said shyly. "Sirius, thank you for doing all of this for me. I just wondered... what will my parents say, when they find out that I'm magic?"

Before Sirius or Remus could reply, Kreacher appeared with the sandwiches and a pitcher.

"Lunch for the masters," he said in his gravelly voice, and the tray and pitcher floated down to the table.

"Well, dig in," said Sirius, less cheerfully than before. They all took sandwiches on to the plates that appeared in front of them and filled their glasses.

"Pumpkin juice," Remus explained in an aside. Harry shrugged and tried it. It was different, but pretty good.

"Now, your parents," Sirius said around a bite of his food. "What you need to understand about James and Lily, is that they've, um, let fame get to their heads, a bit."

Remus snorted.

"A bit," he said under his breath. "And dragons are a bit dangerous."

Sirius ignored him except to quirk his lips. Harry was distracted from the wonder of the fact that dragons were apparently real by the fact that they were discussing his parents.

"How famous are they, really?" he asked. "Professor McGonagall told me about my brother being the, um, Boy-Who-Lived? But I still really don't understand what that means."

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look.

"What you need to understand, Harry, is that Adam, your brother, did something impossible, by surviving the killing curse," Remus said. "Not only that, in doing so, the dark lord was defeated. He ended a war, and for that people were grateful. Even more than that. And then James and Lily ended up, well. Taking advantage of that gratitude, in a way."

Sirius laughed bitterly.

"The wizarding world was all too ready to throw themselves at the Potter's feet for what Adam did, Remus, don't sugarcoat things. They were grateful, yes, but also curious. And James and Lily fed that curiosity. James always did have a bit of a big head, but we always thought Lily had deflated him a bit," he said, almost thoughtfully. "It makes me wonder what went on between them. In any case," he said, "they started giving interviews, and the like. Feeding into people's obsession with the myth of the Boy-Who-Lived. And Adam, I'm afraid to say, is entirely spoiled. An odious little boy, really. I don't know him well, but I've met him a time or two since he was an infant. He's full of himself, and his own importance."

Harry watched Sirius speak curiously. He didn't really know what to think of his parents yet, beyond the fact that they had given him up. But from what his godfather said, he didn't think he would like them.

"I still don't know what was going through Lily's head," he continued. "She's muggleborn, you know, so she wouldn't have the prejudices about squibs already. James must have been really convincing somehow."

Remus shook his head.

"As for what they're going to say when they find out that you aren't a squib," he said, his tone measured. "They're going to be shocked, that's for certain. But other than that... well, they might be embarrassed at their mistake. They might try to apologize to you, Harry, and get custody back from you Aunt and Uncle."

"I don't want to live with them," Harry blurted out, almost surprising himself with the firmness in his tone. He hated the Dursley's, that was true, but he was starting to hate his parents more.

Sirius and Remus exchanged another look.

"I don't want you to make any hasty decisions yet, Harry," Sirius said, as though the words pained him. "They are your parents, and-"

"I don't care!" Harry shouted. "They left me! The just - just left me with the Dursley's! They didn't even bother checking on me, just because they thought I didn't have magic. And if I was a squib, they wouldn't care now. I don't want anything to do with them!"

Sirius looked at him, stunned. Remus rose from his seat and came to sit next to Harry, rubbing his back.

"You don't have to," he said. "What they did was unforgivable, so if you don't want to deal with them, you don't have to, alright? I'll be there for you, and so will Sirius. Right?"

"Right," Sirius confirmed, nodding quickly. "And we'll take care of things with the Dursley's. If you don't want to go back there, you don't have to."

"Really?" Harry asked, looking up and wiping tears from his eyes.

"Really," Remus confirmed.


	6. Chapter Six

Harry's two weeks with Sirius and Remus were like something out of a dream. He didn't have to do any chores at Grimmauld Place - "Kreacher would be offended if you did!" - and Sirius let him decorate his room however he pleased. They took him to Diagon Alley again, and bought him anything he wanted. At first, he was uncomfortable receiving gifts from them, especially when he had a vault full of gold. But they managed to convince him to let them, saying they had 10 years of birthday gifts to make up for.

The most interesting thing that Sirius bought him was a broom, a Nimbus 2000.

"Every young wizard should have their own broomstick. Even if you can't take it with you to Hogwarts," he had said mournfully.

Harry couldn't exactly go flying in London, of course, so Sirius took him out to the countryside one day, to another property the Blacks owned. It made Harry wonder just how rich the Black Family was, exactly, but he didn't ask, thinking it would be kind of rude.

Flying was amazing. It was like he was born to ride a broom. Even Sirius and Remus, who flew with him, were impressed with his skill.

"Wow, Harry! You're a natural!' Sirius had exclaimed, hugging him. It was the first time that Harry could remember being praised like that, and he had returned the hug after a moment of hesitation. It was almost better than flying.

But mostly, he and Sirius and Remus just spend their time getting to know each other. He found out more about his parents as well.

"Your dad was a good man, once," Sirius had told him one evening. "He was my best mate. My brother. Whatever he is now, you should know that."

But finally, it was time to go to Hogwarts.

"You should come for Christmas," Remus suggested, as they packed Harry's things. "You're welcome to, anyway, if you'd like."

Harry was pleased with the offer. Over the past two weeks, Grimmauld Place had become home in a way that the Dursley's never had been, and he was eager to return. He didn't know what next summer would bring, but he didn't want to think about that at the moment.

He would leave for Hogwarts the next day.

As he sat down for dinner, he realized that the mood was unusually solemn. He glanced at Sirius, who was chewing on his lower lip, and Remus, who was having trouble making eye contact.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, now nervous himself.

"Nothing's wrong," Sirius reassured him right away. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Well," Sirius started, obviously nervous, "The thing is, Harry, I've been looking for you for so long, and I don't want to give you up. You're my godson, and that means everything to me. But... I was wondering... would you like to stay with me? Permanently."

Remus nudged Sirius.

"I _mean_ , we'd like to adopt you, Harry."

Harry stared at them for a moment, thinking he must have heard wrong.

"You want to adopt me?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Sirius said with a smile. "It's all I've wanted since you were a baby."

Harry leaped from his seat, darting around the table to Sirius' side.

"Yes!" he said, leaning into Sirius' open arms and hugging him. "Of course! I want to stay here, with you and Remus."

"Good," Sirius said, wrapping his arms around Harry. "That's good. I'm so glad, Harry. I don't want you to have to worry about the Dursley's, or your parents, or anything. You belong with us."

"We'll arrange all the legal stuff while you're at school," Remus said, grinning. "And when you come home for Christmas, we'll sign the papers."

"Yeah. But I want more than that," Sirius said, hugging Harry tightly to himself for a moment before letting go. "I want to Blood Adopt you, Harry."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"It's a way of adopting you magically, as well as legally," Sirius explained. "It will be like you have three natural parents instead of two, give you the Black family magic, and make you my heir, indisputably."

"Wow," said Harry. "Yeah, yes!" he exclaimed. "Of course I want that. I want you to be my dad."

"Brilliant," Sirius said. "I'll arrange everything, so we can do it at Yule."

"I can't wait!"

The next day, Sirius apparated him to Platform 9 3/4. Remus was right behind them with Harry's trunk, the vivarium shrunk inside it.

Harry was eager to go to Hogwarts and learn magic. Sirius and Remus had shown him how wonderful the wizarding world really was, and he wanted to be able to use his wand himself, not just watch. But there was something different about going off to school and having a family to leave behind.

"I'll miss you," he said impulsively, hugging Sirius around the middle, then Remus.

"We'll miss you, too," Sirius said, ruffling his hair. "But you're going to love Hogwarts. It's the best place in the world. I only wish I was coming with you!"

That made Harry grin.

"Alright, time for you to get on the train," Remus said gently. "I put a featherlight charm on your trunk, so you should be able to manage it yourself. You have Hedwig?"

Harry nodded, showing the snake wrapped around his neck, her usual spot.

"Now, send us an owl tomorrow, alright? There's an owlery that anyone can use, so make sure your letter is nice and long. Tell us everything!" Sirius said.

"I will," Harry said, still marveling at the fact that he had someone to write to.

"Now go on, Harry. You'll do great, I know it."

Harry hugged them both one last time, and grabbed his trunk, heading to the train. He turned and waved, and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Thanks to Remus, Harry was early enough that the train still had empty compartments, and he chose one for himself, storing his trunk.

He settled down on one of the seats, turning to look out the window at the platform. There were Sirius and Remus, and he waved. They waved back, grinning.

There was some time before the train would start moving. Harry leaned against the window, reaching up and absently petting Hedwig.

" _Hogwarts is going to be brilliant, girl_ ," he hissed. " _You're going to love it just as much as I will._ "

" _I hope so,_ " she said, tasting the air with her tongue. " _It's exciting. Will there be many mice for me to hunt?_ "

" _It's an old castle, according to Sirius and Remus. I should think so. But you can't eat anyone's pet, you understand?_ "

She hissed wordlessly.

" _No pets, I understand,_ " she said sulkily.

" _Don't pout,_ " Harry said, stroking her the way she liked. " _There will be lots to explore._ "

" _Exploring is fun,"_ she said, content with this distraction. " _But I will stay with you a lot, too."_

Harry was touched.

" _Of course,"_ he hissed back.

Hedwig settled back down on his shoulders, obviously pleased with the situation.

They train had just started moving, Harry waving wildly to Sirius and Remus, when the compartment door opened. A pale boy stood there, flanked by two other, bigger boys.

"We're looking for Adam Potter. We heard he was on the train," said the boy. "Have you seen him?"

Well and truly annoyed by the question, Harry shook his head.

"No, I haven't," he said, his tone betraying his impatience with the question.

The boy sneered a bit.

"What are you, a _mudblood_? Probably don't even know who I'm talking about," he said.

"I'm as much a wizard as you are," Harry said, frowning. Sirius had told him a bit about blood politics, and he knew what the word meant. Harry didn't think that there was much merit to the argument that purebloods were better than muggleborns, and neither did Sirius or Remus. "And I know perfectly well who the _Boy-Who-Lived_ is. What do you want with him, anyway?"

The boy grinned a bit.

"We just want to see if he lives up to his reputation," he drawled. "The Daily Prophet has been raving about him. And now I can finally see if he's what they say."

Harry rolled his eyes. He hadn't met his brother, true, but Sirius and Remus had both told him a little bit about Adam Potter. From what he had heard, his twin was a spoiled brat.

"Well, I'm not hiding him in my trunk," he said finally. "You might as well keep looking."

Just then, Hedwig raised her head from under Harry's collar.

" _You smell funny_ ," she hissed at him. " _What's wrong?_ "

" _Just some boy bothering me,"_ he said, glancing down at her. " _Go back to sleep_."

He looked up again to see the boy staring at him, eyes wide.

"Y-you're a parselmouth," he said, obviously shocked.

Harry nodded, a little bit smug now that he had the boy's attention.

"Yeah. This is Hedwig," he said, gesturing to the snake. "She's a California Kingsnake. And I'm Harry."

The boy entered the compartment, his shadows following him and sitting to either side of him when he sat down.

"I didn't think there were any parselmouths left, besides You-Know-Who," he said, almost whispering in awe. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said. "I don't know much about other parselmouths. I didn't know I was one until a little bit ago, myself," he said.

"How can you not know?" asked the boy, Malfoy, shocked.

Harry shrugged.

"I guess I just never met a snake until then," he said, rubbing his arm.

The boy nodded.

"That makes sense. Do you think you'll be in Slytherin? Salazar himself could speak to snakes, you know," the boy said.

"No, I didn't," Harry replied, surprised. "But I guess it makes sense."

Malfoy nodded.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you were his heir or something," he said. "That would be wicked. Are either of your parents parselmouths?"

Now Harry felt awkward. He didn't exactly want to tell Malfoy who his parents were.

"I don't know. I don't think so," he said. "I never met my parents."

"Oh, sorry," the boy said quickly, obviously assuming Harry was an orphan or something like that.

"You seem to know a lot about Slytherin," Harry observed.

"Yeah, my family has all been Slytherin," Malfoy said proudly. "My parents say I'm sure to get in."

Harry nodded.

"My parents were Gryffindor," he offered, "but my godfather says he thinks I could fit into Ravenclaw. He says I read enough."

Malfoy laughed a bit.

"Ravenclaw isn't bad," he said, "So long as you aren't a Hufflepuff!"

Harry shook his head, grinning. He knew that Hufflepuff had something of a reputation for weaker wizards, though Remus had assured him that it wasn't true.

"We'll see what happens," he said instead. "What about you two?" he asked, gesturing towards Crabbe and Goyle.

The two boys looked startled to be addressed.

"Slytherin," Crabbe grunted, and Goyle nodded.

Malfoy was looking at Harry carefully, though Harry wasn't sure why.

Before either of them could speak again, the compartment door slid open. They turned, only to find a bushy-haired girl looking down at them.

"Excuse me," she said somewhat bossily. "Have any of you seen a toad? A boy called Neville's lost his."

Draco sneered a bit.

"No," he said, not bothering to ask Harry, Crabbe, or Goyle. "We haven't. Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," she said, though it sounded rather insincere.

"Anyway, I bet your snake ate it, Harry," he said, turning towards Harry and Hedwig. "She's big enough to eat a toad, I should think."

Before Harry could reply, saying that Hedwig had been with him the whole time and wouldn't have had the chance, the girl whirled towards him, outraged.

"You have a snake! But that's not allowed! Only cats, owls, and toads," she exclaimed. "And I should hope your snake isn't going around eating people's pets! I'm going to have to speak to a prefect."

Harry, who had been feeling rather irritated by the nosy girl, suddenly felt angry. She just assumed he was breaking the rules, just because she hadn't heard of the exception?

"For your information," he said coldly, "Professor McGonagall personally gave her permission for me to have my snake at Hogwarts. And just so you know," he continued, stroking Hedwig who had perked out of his shirt collar, "She hasn't left me since I got to King's Cross. Malfoy here was just having you on. She knows better than to eat pets."

The girl flushed, embarrassed or angry, Harry couldn't tell. Maybe both.

"I'll have to speak to Professor McGonagall when we get to Hogwarts, then!" she said shrilly, obviously trying to call his nonexistent bluff.

"Feel free," Malfoy butted in. "If you want to embarrass yourself. But if I were you, I'd learn to stop butting into other people's business before it gets you into trouble."

The girl huffed and turned away, shutting the compartment door behind her.

"Muggleborns," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "They always think they know best."

"Do you think she was? Muggleborn, I mean?" Harry asked, settling back down in his seat.

Draco shrugged slightly.

"Couldn't you tell?" he asked sardonically. "Muggle clothes, an attitude, something to prove - it screams muggleborn. She just thinks she knows everything, you could tell."

Harry felt slightly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. He knew that some people, purebloods mostly, thought that they were better than muggleborns. It wasn't something he agreed with. On the other hand, Malfoy had been right - the girl's attitude had been horrible.

"Not all muggleborns are like that, surely?" he said slowly.

Malfoy shrugged.

"I suppose they can't _all_ be. But my father says the loudest ones are," he said wisely. "That must give them all a bad reputation."

Harry shrugged a bit. It sounded reasonable to him, but then again, he knew that purebloods said all kinds of untrue things about muggleborns.

"Maybe. I just don't like the idea of judging people by who their parents are, is all," he said neutrally.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but didn't say anything.

There was a knock at the compartment door, before it slid open.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" came the voice of an older witch.

Harry grinned, his mind taken off the previous conversation immediately. He had taken to magical sweets, after his life at the Dursley's of not being given anything sugary at all. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his bag of spending money.

"Yes, please," he said, rising, and taking a bit of everything. Draco joined him, and bought some candies as well, and so did Crabbe and Goyle.

The four boys examined their bounty, previous tension forgotten.

"I love wizard candy," Harry said absently. "It's better than the muggle kind."

Draco stared at him for a moment as he was opening his chocolate frog.

"I've never had muggle candy," he said, curiously.

Harry glanced away, realizing he had given away his position as someone who spent time in the muggle world.

"Mm," Harry said noncommittally. "It's boring compared to this."

Hopefully, Malfoy wouldn't have any more questions. He knew that the other boy would find out about his family eventually, but he kind of enjoyed not talking about his situation. And he wasn't sure he wanted to admit he was the famous Adam Potter's brother just yet.

After all, he didn't want to use his family's reputation. Harry was going to become a great wizard, and the Potter's would regret giving him up.


	7. Chapter Seven

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was spent carefully avoiding more political subjects and trading Chocolate Frogs cards back and forth. Harry's collection was much smaller than Malfoy's, since he'd only been collecting for a few weeks. Another thing for the boy to be suspicious of. But he hadn't said anything about it, thankfully, and even gave Harry a few cards that he had duplicates of. Crabbe and Goyle followed his lead, and soon Harry had the beginnings of a proper collection.

Malfoy had started teaching Harry gobstones when the train began to slow down. The time had flown by, and Harry was surprised that they had already arrived.

The four boys tidied up, storing everything in their trunks, before heading out of their compartment as soon as the train came to a stop. Their trunks, according to an announcement, would be taken to the castle separately.

The train had stopped in a small village that Harry knew to be Hogsmeade, at least according to Sirius and Remus. But Harry wouldn't be visiting the village until his third year, to his disappointment.

He followed Malfoy as they joined the crowd, all the first years getting together where a very, very tall man was calling for them, lantern in hand.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" the man kept calling out, until the rest of Harry's class were gathered around him.

"Follow me!" the giant man called out, and he lead them to a lake and a row of small boats.

"No more than 4 to a boat!" he instructed, and Harry, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy all got into one of the rickety-looking boats together. Harry noticed the bossy girl with a pudgy boy clutching a toad in his hands. Harry stroked Hedwig, reminding himself to warn the snake once again to be careful what she ate.

The boats were, apparently, propelled by magic, and as the giant man pointed a pink umbrella forward the boats moved in unison, as if pushed by a motor.

They traveled into a big cavern, covered with ivy, and then they emerged for their first glimpse at the castle. Harry gasped - he couldn't help himself. Hogwarts was magnificent, a castle even bigger than he had imagined, and he started to grin.

It was amazing.

Hedwig peered up at him, tasting the air, before looking towards the castle.

" _It's so big,"_ she hissed out, before burying herself in his robes once more.

The boats docked at the bottom of a huge staircase, and the giant man lead them up the stairs and to the large wooden doors, before knocking three times.

The familiar face of Professor McGonagall opened the door, and welcomed them inside, before giving a brief introduction to the houses and the point system, thing she had already explained to Harry before, on their trip to Diagon Alley.

Professor McGonagall left them to go into the Great Hall, and Harry started looking around. He knew his brother would be here somewhere, but he didn't know what he looked like or anything.

Harry wasn't sure what to think about his brother, Adam Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Unlike their parents, Adam hadn't done anything to him. Sure, Sirius claimed that he was a spoiled brat, but Remus had been oddly silent on that front. Harry had decided to judge Adam on his own merits. It was the least he could do, really. He would hate to be judged, himself, just from what others said about him.

Finally, he spotted a boy with similar messy black hair, a bit taller and broader than Harry was, who had the same shape of face and general look as he did. His eyes were a different color, though - blue, in contrast to Harry's bright green.

He wasn't sure, but Harry thought that this might be his twin. He glanced towards Draco, intending to ask him if he knew, but Draco was already pushing through the crowd, Crabbe and Goyle following him. Harry watched, curious as to what Draco was doing.

"So, you're Potter?" he asked, his voice curious with a bit of a sneer. "I heard you'd be coming to Hogwarts this year. I'm Draco Malfoy," he said with pride in his voice. He glanced at the red-haired boy next to what was, apparently, Adam. "You should know better than to hang out with blood traitors like the Weasley's, Potter. Someone of your station shouldn't dirty themselves."

The red-haired boy - apparently a Weasley, whatever that was - flushed bright red.

"Watch what you say about Ron," Adam warned Draco. "He's my best mate."

Harry couldn't see Malfoy's expression, but he would bet that it was nothing pleasant.

Before things could escalate further, Professor McGonagall returned.

"We're ready for you, now," she said. "Line up!"

They obligingly formed a line, Harry near the middle, and headed into the Great Hall.

Harry looked around in wonder. It was huge - the Dursley's whole house could fit in it. And as he looked up, he saw that the ceiling looked as if it wasn't there at all, and the Hall simply opened up to the night sky.

"Wow," he muttered to himself, before looking around at the rest of the hall.

There were four tables for students, all lined up, and a high table for teachers. He looked at the high table, seeing Professor Dumbledore there in a throne-like chair. Sirius and Remus had told him a bit about the headmaster, both seeming fond of the man. Harry knew that he was a leader in the Wizarding World, and that he had a lot of influence.

The first years all gathered around a battered wizards hat. It was silent for a moment, before the hat opened what Harry had thought was a rip, but was apparently a mouth.

The hat's song was interesting, going over the virtues of each House, and Harry was relieved to hear that he would only have to try the hat on, not anything more, well, scary. It was bad enough that he had to do it in front of the whole school.

"When I call your name, you will come forward, and try on the Sorting Hat," she announced. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A blushing girl with blonde pigtails moved forward out of the crowd, and made her way up to the stool, sitting down. Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on her head. There was a pause, and then -

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry grinned. It really was that simple.

Professor McGonagall called out the next name, - Bones, Susan - and Harry let his mind wander, his gaze drawn to the boy he thought was his twin.

It was almost time to reveal his presence. They would call Adam, and then find out that Harry was a wizard. He wondered for the first time if Adam even knew he had a brother, if their parents had kept his existence a secret from even him. It wouldn't surprise him.

Maybe they should have contacted the Potter family before Harry went to Hogwarts. That might have given Adam some warning, given him time to get used to the idea.

Oh, well, nothing for it now. Harry watched his classmates get sorted, and wondered what his twin was going to say when they called his name.

Finally, it was time.

"Potter, Adam!" Professor McGonagall called out, and the boy he had earmarked walked forward, confidence - or arrogance - in his every step. Harry watched him closely as he tried on the had, noticing the whispers that followed him

"Adam Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived?" they whispered, talking about him, and for the first time, Harry felt a bit of sympathy for Adam. It must not be easy, growing up with that kind of attention. Harry knew he would have hated it.

The hat sat on Adam's head for a long moment. Just when Harry wondered how long it was going to take, the hat called out, "Gryffindor!"

Adam smirked a bit, swaggering over to his new house. Harry frowned. Should he try to get into the same house as his twin, so they could get to know one another? Or should he try to avoid it, so it wouldn't look like he was following Adam? He barely had time to wonder, before Professor McGonagall called out his own name. His eyes on Adam, he saw the boy pale.

There were nearly as many whispers as there were about Adam.

"Another Potter? Do you think he's related? Maybe he's muggleborn? No, he looks just like the other one, see?"

Harry held his head high, though it was a struggle not to feel self-conscious about the stares and whispers. He knew this was coming, he told himself, that being Adam Potter's brother would bring attention. Now it was time to bear it.

He sat on the small, rickety stool, and felt Professor McGonagall set the head on his hat. It was much too large for him, and fell down over his eyes, covering his gaze from the watching student body.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" asked the hat, the voice echoing in Harry's head. "Another Potter? But you're not very much like your brother, are you? Where to put you, where to put you..." the house mused.

"Wherever I would do best," Harry thought firmly, but a stray thought escaped him. _Not with Adam. Not in Gryffindor_. He wanted to forge his own path, to be seen as a separate entity than the Boy-Who-Lived. He wanted to prove to his parents how wrong they had been.

"Hmm, ambitious one, aren't you? Better be... SLYTHERIN!"

Harry stood, handing the had back to Professor McGonagall, and headed towards the Slytherin table. He just wondered how Sirius was going to take the news.


	8. Chapter Eight

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had already been sorted, so Harry went to sit by them.

"Budge over," Malfoy said to Crabbe, and they made room for him.

Malfoy was glaring at him, and Harry thought he knew why. After all, he hadn't confided in his new friend that he was a Potter, and brother to Adam at that. Harry grinned a bit, shrugging, as the sorting continued.

"You didn't tell me your surname," Malfoy whispered furiously, leaning over towards him.

"I didn't want you to judge me by my family," Harry whispered back. "Sorry."

Malfoy looked a little bit mollified.

"Well, that's alright, then, I suppose," he whispered again. "Good to see you in Slytherin."

Harry nodded, smiling, and they both quieted, watching the rest of the sorting ceremony.

When Zabini, Blaise became a Slytherin, it ended, and Professor McGonagall took the hat and the stool away as Professor Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome, welcome, to another year at Hogwarts!" he called out to the crowd of students. Before we begin our feast, I have only a few words to say. And they are; Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

And he sat back down.

Harry raised an eyebrow, staring at Dumbledore for a moment before turning his attention to the food that had appeared before him. Dumbledore certainly seemed, well, odd. But then again, Harry didn't know much about the magic world, still. Perhaps it was normal.

But judging by the looks on his fellow Slytherin's faces, he guessed not.

"He's a bit mad, isn't he?" he asked Malfoy quietly, loading his plate.

Malfoy made an undignified snort.

"Just a bit. Father says he's the worst thing that's ever happened to Hogwarts."

Harry didn't know about that. Sirius and Remus both seemed to hold the Headmaster in high regard. But Dumbledore _did_ seem strange.

Harry mentally shrugged. He had already figured out that Malfoy's family had some different opinions than his did. He just hoped that it didn't affect their friendship.

One of the other first years, obviously braver than the rest, leaned forward from where he was sitting across from Harry.

"So, are you related to Adam Potter?" he asked, Harry recognized him as Blaise Zabini, the last to be sorted.

He nodded.

"I'm his brother," he said, before taking a bite of his meal.

"Why haven't we heard of you, then?" Zabini asked, a bit of a challenge in his voice, like he thought Harry was lying.

Harry glanced at Adam Potter, who kept staring at him.

"Um, our parents thought I was a squib, and sent me to live with muggles," he said, trying not to be ashamed of this fact.

"And are you?" Zabini asked.

"Don't be stupid, Zabini," Malfoy said. "He wouldn't be here if he wasn't magic."

Zabini shrugged a bit.

"Had to ask."

"I'm not a squib," Harry said a bit louder than he meant to. "Sirius says that my magic was drained after You-Know-Who was defeated, and the healers made a mistake."

"I thought Adam defeated the dark lord," said one of the older years, obviously listening in on them. "What does your magic have to do with it?"

Harry shrugged a bit.

"No one knows what happened that night," he started. "I doubt my brother remembers, and no one else was there beside us. But Sirius thinks that maybe Adam borrowed my power, subconsciously, through the twin bond, when he was hit with the killing curse. But I don't know if anyone will ever know for sure."

"Makes sense," said one of the older years. "Twin bonds are powerful stuff, and not a lot is known about them. You sure are a surprise, Potter," he added. "I'm sure your father will be thrilled."

That last bit was said with a bit of sarcasm, and Harry smiled sardonically. He could guess what James Potter might think of his supposedly squib son being sorted into Slytherin. And he didn't care.

James Potter could grovel at his feet, and Harry wouldn't forgive him for what he went through.

Their curiosity about him momentarily satisfied, the rest of the Slytherin's went back to their meal.

"Who's Sirius?" Malfoy asked, obviously curious.

"My godfather," Harry clarified. "Sirius Black. I stayed with him for a couple of weeks this summer."

Malfoy's eyes widened.

"You've been staying with Lord Black?" he asked, incredulous. "He's one of the most powerful wizards in Britain!"

Harry blinked, stunned at this reaction. Sirius hardly seemed the type.

"Is he?" he asked mildly, though he was curious about it. "He didn't say anything about it.

But then again, Harry thought, Sirius probably hadn't wanted to overwhelm him. Between all the fun they had had, there was a lot that Sirius had taught him. Or maybe Sirius just hadn't thought it was that important. That seemed to be like him.

"He's my mother's cousin," Malfoy continued, apparently oblivious to Harry's conflicted expression. "But I've never met him. I think mother has tea with him sometimes, though."

Harry was surprised at that. Sirius acted like he was estranged from most of his family, though he _had_ mentioned cousins. Maybe Malfoy's mother was one of those.

"I only met him a couple of weeks ago," Harry said. "I lived with muggles before he found me. My mother's sister."

"Oh, so _that's_ how you know so much about the muggle world," Malfoy said. "I wondered."

Harry nodded, grateful that was the only thing Malfoy said about it.

"Yeah. But I think the wizarding world is much better," he confided. "Sirius says he won't let me go back to my fam - mean, the muggles, this summer. I hope he's right."

Malfoy scoffed.

"I'd be surprised if your parents allowed that," he said. "Now that they know you're not a squib."

"Well, they will soon, anyway," Harry said slyly. "I'm sure Adam will write to them."

Malfoy gaped at him, then laughed.

"Oh, that's genius!" he said. "They're going to be shocked!"

Harry chuckled.

"Sirius said it's a brilliant prank. And they deserve it," Harry said, a bit viciously.

Malfoy nodded.

"Yeah. You're no squib," he said decisively. "They were stupid to think so."

Harry thought Malfoy was rather missing the point, but appreciated the support nonetheless.

"I don't really know how to feel about them," he confided in his new friend quietly. "I mean, they're my parents. But they abandoned me, you know? How am I supposed to forgive that?"

Malfoy looked at him solemnly.

"I don't know. Maybe you can't. But it seems like Lord Black is there for you, right? So maybe that'll be good," he said, obviously trying to be positive. Harry didn't really blame Malfoy for not knowing how to react. It was a big deal, having your parents abandon you as a baby. What eleven-year-old should have to deal with that revelation, even as a friend?

Still, he appreciated the support.

They had moved on to dessert by now, and Harry was enjoying a treacle tart while he talked. It helped take the harshness out of the serious subject.

"I'm just curious about what they'll do now," he confided in his new friend.

Malfoy shrugged. "Who knows? But you better make them work for whatever you give them," he said, and Harry laughed.

"Sirius had the same attitude," he said.

They finished their dessert, chatting about lighter things when the dishes finally disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore stood. Harry listened attentively to his announcements. It all seemed quite reasonable to him, until they came to the end.

"A very painful death?" he asked Malfoy quietly. "He can't be serious!"

"He must be," Malfoy said, frowning. "I'll write to father. He's on the board of governor's, maybe he'll know what's happening."

The headmaster announced that they would be singing the school song, to the apparent consternation of a few of the professors.

As the entire school bellowed the song, each in their own tune, Harry grinned. Hogwarts was brilliant.


	9. Chapter Nine

Harry, Malfoy, and the rest of the first year Slytherin's followed the prefects from the Great Hall, through winding passages, until the air was cool and there were no more windows Apparently the Slytherins slept in the dungeons. There were few of the moving portraits down there, but plenty of interesting tapestries.

They were lead to an unassuming bit of stone wall, where the prefect turn to speak to the first years.

"This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room," the girl said. "This should go without saying, but members of other houses aren't allowed here. Make as many friends as you want, just keep the Common Room for Slytherins only, alright?" she side, before winking at them. "The password changes every two weeks, and it's put up on the notice board the day before it changes. Right now it's _ambition._ "

The stone wall melted away into an arch, and she lead Harry and the rest of his cohort forward. He looked around the Common Room curiously. It was decorated in a green, silver, and black scheme, and it was obviously under the lake, because part of the ceiling gave a view of the water.

"Wow," he muttered under his breath, grinning at the sight. It was obviously magic, and the greenish light from the lake was impressive to see.

The first year gathered around the prefects again. This time it was the boy who spoke.

"You can come to us any time you have questions," he said. "You'll get your schedule of classes tomorrow, and you're expected to be on time for every one of them, so leave for them early if you're worried about getting lost. You can always ask the portraits, or our house ghost, The Bloody Baron, for directions if a prefect is not available. You can also speak to the Head Boy or Girl," he added, "but as they aren't Slytherin, they may be more difficult to contact."

Harry listened quietly. He wanted his time at Hogwarts to go smoothly, and he didn't want to get into trouble, so it seemed best to pay attention.

"We are Slytherin," the other prefect took up. "All too often we are misunderstood by the other houses. But we're as smart as Ravenclaws, as loyal as Hufflepuffs, and as brave as Gryffindors, when we need to be. The difference is, Slytherins are more ambitious, more cunning, and we have a sense of self-preservation. We pride ourselves on the fact that Slytherins look out for each other. That means we present a united front. If you don't get along with your fellow housemate, fine. Just keep your conflicts inside the common room."

"I'll take the boys to their dormitory, and Gemma will take the girls," the male prefect said, gesturing for them to follow him. "Come on."

Harry and Malfoy were the first to follow him, the rest of the boys behind them. There were Crabbe and Goyle, of course, as well as Zabini, who had questioned Harry at dinner, and Nott, who so far seemed to be very quiet.

They were lead to a discreet door, down a sloping hallway.

"We have plenty of space down below the dungeons," the prefect said. "There are seven rooms, one for each year. Once you're assigned a room, it will be yours for the rest of your stay at Hogwarts."

They arrived at a door with the words _First Years_ emblazoned in silver. The prefect opened the door and led them inside.

"Your trunks are already at your beds," he said, as the first years filed in. "You can trade, if you want to, but I'd advise you to pick a bed and stay with it. Classes start tomorrow after breakfast, so get up bright and early to get your schedules from our head of house, Professor Snape, in the Great Hall. And don't stay up too late," he added with a smirk. "Sleep well."

And he turned and left them, shutting the door behind him.

The boys all went to find their trunks. The beds were arranged in a circle, and he found himself between Nott and Malfoy.

He pulled his new pajamas out of his trunk - Sirius and Remus had convinced him to replace Dudley's old ones - and quickly changed, tired and ready for bed after the train ride and the lavish feast. It was all too exciting, and he was exhausted from it all.

Not to mention seeing his brother for the first time. Harry knew he was avoiding thinking about it, but he was just grateful to be safe in the Slytherin Common Room. He couldn't imagine what would have happened if he had been sorted into Gryffindor, and had to share a dormitory with his twin. That would be awkward. It would be weird enough sharing classes with him without sharing a bedroom.

He wondered if Adam would write to their parents about it. Harry wondered a lot of things, as he crawled into his comfortable four-poster bed. Would their parents be angry? Would they want to get to know Harry? What would they think about the news that he was magical after all?

Determined to write to Sirius and Remus the next day, telling them about his sorting and asking them about James and Lily, Harry closed his eyes, resting his head on the soft pillow. There would be time to worry the next day. He was tired.

* * *

The next morning, Harry awoke before the rest of his dorm mates. It looked like his habit of waking before his family members had continued, even after two weeks of sleeping in. Or perhaps he was just nervous. He glanced over at the clock, glad to see that he hadn't woken up too early. It was already 7 o'clock.

Harry got out of bed, gathering his things and intending on taking his shower before the rest of the dorm got up. He had realized the previous night that he was the skinniest in his year, and he was a little embarrassed by it. He didn't need them to see him in only a towel, or Merlin forbid, naked.

He showered, before changing into his robes, and emerging into the dorm room again, he gathered his school things. He hesitated for a moment. Should he wake Malfoy or any of the others? No, there was time for them to have a bit more of a lie in than he'd had. They'd probably be annoyed if he woke them. Hedwig was asleep, too.

He went to the vivarium, which had been placed next to his bed, and knelt down, peering inside. Hedwig was curled up on one of the branches, sound asleep.

Harry considered leaving her be for a moment, but decided he wanted the company when he explored. Hedwig would probably be angry at him if he left her behind on his first day, anyway.

He reached into the glass tank, stroking her smooth scales.

"Hedwig," he hissed softly. "Wake up."

Her tongue flicked out as she tasted the air.

"Harry?" she said. "It's so early. Why are you waking me up?" she asked sleepily.

Harry smiled softly.

"I'm going to explore a little bit before classes. Do you want to come with me?"

She clearly wavered for a moment between her two choices, before uncoiling and slithering out of the tank.

"You can't go without me," she decided, and slithered up his outstretched arm to coil around his neck.

Harry stood, and headed out of the dorm, much more comfortable now that he had his snake with him.

He climbed the sloping floors up to the common room. There were a few upper year students already there, some studying, others just talking. They ignored him, and he, them.

The plain stone wall where he had entered melted away as Harry approached it, forming an archway. He grinned a bit to himself, impressed with the magic at work, and headed out into the corridor.

Here, he paused. He had been so tired the previous night, he had forgotten which way the Great Hall was.

"What is it?" Hedwig asked, apparently wondering at his hesitation.

"I'm not sure which way to go," he admitted.

"It's cold," she hissed, burrowing under his shirt. "Go where it's warmer."

Harry laughed a bit, looking around. He realized that there was a slight slope in the floor, and decided to risk going up. Hopefully, it was the right direction.

He noticed again the lack of portraits in the dungeons, compared to what he had seen of the rest of the castle. It was kind of odd, and he wondered why. Maybe one of the upper years knew. He could always ask.

The floor continued to slope upwards, steeper now, and Harry continued to climb. He came to a fork in his way, and debated on which direction to turn. Biting his lip, he decided on the right, turned the corner, and bumped into a black-clad chest.

He stumbled back, exclaiming a bit in surprise, and looked up to see Professor Snape looking down at him over his overlarge nose.

"Wandering the corridors, Mr. Potter?" he said, looking down at him. "You should still be in bed."

"I woke up early," Harry said, suddenly feeling like he was breaking the rules somehow. "I wanted to go to breakfast."

Professor Snape sneered a bit.

"Of course. I'm afraid you're going in the wrong direction, however. For future reference, my office is down this corridor."

"Oh," Harry said simply. "Um. Sorry. Which way is the Great Hall, then?" he asked.

"As I am heading in that direction, I suppose I can show you the way," Professor Snape said, as though this was a burden on him. "Come with me."

Harry trailed behind Professor Snape nervously. Something about the way the man spoke to him was kind of odd, but he couldn't put his finger on what it is. Something about his tone. Like Harry was just waiting to make trouble. Or perhaps, had made trouble already, though Harry didn't think he had done anything wrong so far.

They continued on their way without another word spoken between them, until they reached the Great Hall. Harry had recognized the way about halfway there, but thought it would be better not to say anything.

"Here we are, Potter," Professor Snape said, startling Harry a little bit. "I trust I won't find you lost any longer."

"Yes, sir," Harry said. The Professor looked at him doubtfully, before sweeping off to the high table.


	10. Chapter Ten

There was food out on the tables already, and a few students scattered about the Great Hall, but it was mostly deserted. Harry didn't mind. He wasn't used to being around a lot of people, and he was glad to have the time to himself.

He sat down at the end of Slytherin table closest to the professors, away from his fellow Slytherins, and pulled out a quill and parchment. He had a letter to write.

_Dear Sirius & Remus,  
I was sorted into Slytherin last night! I hope you both don't mind. I told the sorting hat to put me in the house that I would do the best in.  
Adam was sorted into Gryffindor. I'm kind of glad we're not in the same House. It seems like it could get awkward that way.  
I don't know what our parents told him about me yet. I haven't spoken to him. But he seemed shocked to see me at Hogwarts - he kept staring at me last night during the feast.   
Have you heard from my parents yet? If you do, let me know. I want to know what they have to say.  
In other news, I think I've made a friend! His name is Draco Malfoy. He's a bit of a snob, but I think he's nice enough anyway. He's got some of those pureblood opinions you told me about, but he seemed open to other opinions, as well. He seemed very impressed that I was staying with "Lord Black," Sirius.  
I'm at breakfast, now. I hope I'll find the owlery before classes start, but it might have to wait until lunch. I don't know my schedule yet.  
Hedwig says hi!  
Love from,  
Harry_

Harry waited for the ink to dry, before rolling up the letter and tying it off. He wondered if Malfoy would help him find the owlery. Or perhaps one of the prefects could help him. Digging into his breakfast, he looked around. A few more students had arrived, mostly Ravenclaws, but there were students from every house, breaking their fast early.

Harry served himself breakfast, eggs and bacon and pumpkin juice, and dug in, after opening his book to read while he ate. He ate slowly, getting absorbed in Hogwarts, A History. It was a bit dry, but the information was interesting. Harry was particularly interested in Salazar Slytherin and the Founders, as he'd heard a bit of Slytherin's reputation and was wondering where the pureblood — muggleborn divide came from, especially Slytherin's reputation of taking only or mostly purebloods.

The book didn't have much in the way of that, but it was fascinating all the same. Hogwarts was reported to have many secrets, and the book touched on that, how much of the school remained a mystery continuing up to modern times.

Sirius and Remus had both had something to say about the mysteries of the school. They had found a number of hidden passages, and even had made a map, though neither knew what had become of it since their schooldays. Harry was determined to find at least some of them, and perhaps create a map of his own, if he couldn't find his parent's one.

Maybe Draco would be interested in exploring? It would be nice to do it with a friend.

Harry finished eating, closing his book, and glanced over at the older students at the end of the table. Maybe they could help him find the owlery.

He had spent more time reading than eating, he realized, as he saw that the Great Hall had filled with students. Harry was still unused to being able to read as he pleased. At the Dursley's, he had barely been able to read for his school assignments, let alone read for pleasure. He was starting to think he might like it.

Harry shoved his book back into his bag, before standing. Malfoy and the rest would no doubt be down for breakfast soon, and he wanted to get his letter posted before classes.

He asked one of the older students where the owlery was, and he was given brief directions. After thanking the boy - Warrington - he headed to the entrance of the Great Hall.

He had just left when he saw his brother, Adam, enter. Harry felt the sudden urge to turn around and run. He really didn't want to deal with this confrontation now, when he was alone. But it looked like he had no choice.

Both boys froze for a second, neither apparently knowing how to react. Harry wanted to think the best of his twin - their parent's actions weren't his fault, even if they were a reaction to his status as the Boy-Who-Lived.

All of a sudden, Sirius's great prank seemed like a _terrible_ idea. _Why_ had he gone along with it? This all could have been avoided if they'd just written to the Potter's over the summer.

"Sorry we didn't write," Harry blurted out, "I mean... sorry it was such a surprise, my coming to Hogwarts."

He wasn't sure what else to say. It hadn't really occurred to him that his sudden appearance might affect his brother, though it was hard to think of Adam that way.

But Adam didn't react to his apology well.

"What, you thought if you showed up out of the blue you'd get some kind of special attention?" he sneered. "It's pathetic."

Harry actually took a step back, he was so surprised at Adam's attitude.

"What?" he said, stunned. "I'm not - I don't want attention!"

Adam rolled his eyes, and the red-headed boy next to him snorted.

"Sure. Mum and dad told me about you. That you had to go live with muggles because you're a squib."

"I'm not a squib!" Harry said hotly, though something about that bothered him. It shouldn't matter if he was a squib or not, really.

"Obviously," Adam said. "Or else you wouldn't be here. Just because you turned out to have _some_ magic doesn't mean anything. _I'm_ the Boy-Who-Lived, not you."

Harry frowned.

"I know that," he said, not sure what Adam meant.

"I heard you were staying with Sirius Black," Adam continued. "Don't you know he's a dark wizard? I wouldn't associate with a Black, if I were you."

"He's my godfather," Harry said, "and he's not a dark wizard!"

Adam shook his head, almost as if he was pitying Harry.

"Don't be stupid. The Blacks are all dark, everyone knows that. He's probably using you or something."

Harry felt a hot flush of anger fill his body. What did Adam know, anyway? He was a spoiled brat who didn't understand anything.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said firmly, trying to control his temper. "What's your problem with me, anyway? You're my brother."

Adam flinched as if stung.

"I don't know you," he said shakily, and Harry wondered what he was thinking. "And we might have the same name, but you aren't my brother. I don't have a brother."

And he turned and walked away, the red-headed boy trailing after him.

Hedwig stuck her head out of his shirt, hissing at him.

" _Are you okay_?" she asked, obviously sensing his distress, but smart enough not to come out when others were around.

" _I'm fine_ ," he lied. " _Go back to sleep_."

Shaken, Harry left as well, making his way up to the owlery. He didn't understand. Sure, maybe he didn't expect him and Adam to get along perfectly right away, but neither did he expect this level of hostility. He might have messed up by not writing first, but he had never done anything to hurt Adam, had he?

He thought about editing his letter to Sirius and Remus to include the confrontation, but decided against it. They would just worry. Though he did wonder if either of them had contacted the Potter's yet.

He posted his letter with one of the school owls, wishing he could talk to his godfather face to face. Maybe Sirius would understand what was wrong with Adam.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Harry returned to the Great Hall, still lost in thought. Maybe Adam was just in shock about his sudden appearance. Who knew what their parents had told him about Harry? And Sirius and Remus had said that the fame had gone to their heads. Was that it? Was Adam just stuck up? Or was it something else?

Draco was seated at the Slytherin table when he returned, along with the rest of the first years.

"Where have you been?" he asked, as he filled his plate. "You were gone when we got up."

"I'm used to waking up early," Harry said. "And I wanted to read a bit, and send Sirius and Remus a letter."

"You've found the owlery, then? You'll have to show me, I need to write to my parents, as well. What's wrong? You look off."

Harry debated telling Draco about his encounter with his brother, and decided for it. Maybe Draco would know something about the Potter's.

After he was finished, Draco snorted, shaking his head.

"My father says that James Potter is too famous for his own good. Everyone knows the Boy-Who-Lived, and everyone knows about the _great_ James Potter, head auror. He's probably just jealous that you'll take some attention away from him, or something."

Maybe that was true, Harry thought. But he wondered if something as simple as jealousy would cause Adam's reaction. After all, Harry wasn't famous or anything. Not like Adam was. He shrugged, and waited for their schedules to be handed out, trying to put his brother out of his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about it, anyway. Not then.

Professor Snape soon came around, handing out pieces of parchment with their schedules on it. Harry eagerly examined his, excited to start learning magic. It was so different than muggle school, so much better. 

As he walked to his first class, transfiguration, accompanied by Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, he realized that people were staring at him.

_"Do you think he's a real Potter?"_

_"I heard he was supposed to be a squib!"_

_"Hah! I guess old James Potter made a mistake."_

Harry tried to ignore it, but it made him uncomfortable. To be the subject of their gossip, to be in the spotlight... for someone who was used to going unnoticed, it was unnerving. In his old school, the other students ignored him as best, or else they would risk the wrath of Dudley and his gang. But there was no one here that cared if Harry was talked about, or made friends. It was a good thing, but he found that it was taking some getting used to.

With directions from one of the Slytherin prefects, Harry, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle made it to transfiguration just in time, settling down just as class started. Harry remembered Professor McGonagall from when he had arrived at Hogwarts, and she seemed the type that would be very strict. He didn't want to mess about in her class. But he was excited to be taught by her. She had featured in some of Sirius and Remus's stories from Hogwarts. And, of course, transfiguration was necessary if he wanted to become an animagus like his godfather.

Once Professor McGonagall arrived, class began without delay. She gave a stern lecture on the seriousness of what they would learn, how dangerous it could be, and that fooling around wouldn't be tolerated. Nothing that Harry was surprised by. What he _was_ surprised by was the amount of notes he had to take. Even though he had skimmed his books and heard from Sirius and Remus, somehow he had still expected magic to be less complicated. It was foolish in hindsight, he supposed.

After a great deal of the theoretical, Professor McGonagall finally allowed them to take out their wands. They were to be transfiguring the matches that she handed out into needles.

The classroom was filled for a time with the sound of first years chanting the incantation, with no success. Harry, his holly wand in hand, pointed it at the match and gave it a try. No change to the match. 

He frowned.

Harry wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he would be able to get it if the rest of his class couldn't, but he hadn't expected such difficulties. The magic he experienced so far had seemed like, well, magic. Effortless and wonderful.

It turned out it took a little practice to get to that point.

He glanced back at his notes, biting his lip. Was he missing something? Or did it just take a lot of effort and practice to get done?

He hoped so. None of the others had managed it so far, so maybe it wasn't a problem with him.

Harry repeated the incantation, again moving his wand the way that Professor McGonagall had demonstrated. He glanced over at the Gryffindor side of the room, wondering if they were doing any better. Wondering if Adam was doing any better than he was. 

He shook his head slightly. He didn't want to be enemies with his twin, or even rivals. So why did he care how Adam was doing in class?

A few minutes later, with Harry no closer to succeeding, he became aware of some commotion with the Gryffindors, and looked up from his efforts. It seemed that one of them had succeeded - or nearly, anyway.

Professor McGonagall was demonstrating how her match had gone silver and pointed. Not quite a needle, but progress nonetheless.

Harry felt a pang of jealousy that he tried to squash down. It was the nosy girl from the train, who had accused him of breaking the rules by bringing Hedwig.

If she could change her match, why couldn't he? Was there something wrong with him?

He looked over at Draco, who was sitting next to him.

Draco's brow was furrowed, and he was glaring at the Gryffindors.

"Thinks she's so special," he muttered, as Professor McGonagall awarded Gryffindor points. "It's a stupid spell, anyway. Who would need to transform a match into a needle?"

Harry thought that was beside the point - you did simple magic now so that you could learn to do complicated magic later. But he wasn't about to point that out to Draco.

He glanced at the Gryffindors again. The girl who had succeeded, if only partially, looked rather proud of herself, and he felt another flash of jealousy, this time mixed with anger.

Who was she, anyway, to succeed where he couldn't?

He closed his eyes, remembering what Remus had told him about magic over the summer. He had been full of questions, once he learned that Remus was willing to teach him. And his biggest question was how magic worked. Remus had laughed, telling him that wizards had been trying to answer that question for as long as magic existed. But, Remus had said, magic did seem to respond to the willpower and emotions of the witch or wizard wielding it. That's how accidental magic worked for children. 

Harry focused all his will on wanting the needle to change. He pictured it in his mind, silver and pointed. He remembered what the needle felt like in his hand when he had mended clothing for his aunt, the smooth texture, the pain of poking himself in the thumb. And, unbidden, he thought of how much he wanted to show everyone that he wasn't a squib. How much he wanted to prove his parents wrong.

He waved his wand in a short motion, and, without even realizing that it had happened, the match was a needle.

"Hey, you did it!" Draco said, looking over at Harry. He raised his hand, undoubtedly wanting points for Slytherin. "Professor! Harry's done it!"

McGonagall hurried over to their table, eyebrows raised. She looked at Harry's transfigured needle, before picking it up and examining it.

"Very well done, Mr. Potter," she said, warmth in her voice. "Ten points to Slytherin for outstanding work."

Harry grinned.

"Look at Potter," Draco whispered into his ear, as Professor McGonagall turned away.

He did. His twin looked furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and commented! A couple of people have asked about pairings, and the short answer is, they're only eleven - they won't get paired up for a while! If this story does last long enough for them to get older and start dating, I will let you know then


	12. Chapter Twelve

Harry had only been at Hogwarts a day, and it was already home in a way the Dursley's never was. A part of him felt as if he was meant to be at the school, and he supposed that was right. He was a wizard, and he belonged with his fellow wizards in the magical world. Not with muggles - especially ones like his aunt and uncle.

More than ever, he was grateful to Sirius and Remus for taking him away before the school started, and giving him a home to look forward to. And more than ever, he was resentful of his parents for giving him up. This should have been his, always. The magical world was his right, and they had stolen that life from him for ten years.

Harry didn't know how he was supposed to forgive that.

On the other hand, he was still intensely curious about his mother and father. He hadn't met them since he had found out they were still alive, or received a letter from them, or anything like that. But they must know he went to Hogwarts by now. Adam must have written to them, or maybe one of the professors. Or perhaps Remus, who, while agreeing to the prank, seemed to be the more responsible one out of him and Sirius.

Then again, he didn't know how you were meant to react when you found out the supposed squib son that you gave up suddenly appeared at Hogwarts. It wasn't exactly a normal situation.

The only thing he didn't like about Hogwarts was the gossip that followed him everywhere. His relation to Adam Potter alone was enough to get people to pay attention to him. Add in the fact that he was supposedly a squib and had been adopted out to muggles, only to get his Hogwarts letter anyway, and everyone seemed to have an opinion.

Harry hated it.

At least his fellow Slytherins mostly left him alone, and he could get some peace and quiet in the Common Room. He could tell they were curious about him, but it seemed they were content to wait and watch. There were a few odd looks, as if a Potter in Slytherin was a strange thing, but with Draco at his side Harry didn't mind them too much.

The day after Harry wrote to Sirius and Remus, he got a reply at breakfast.

_Dear Harry,  
Congratulations on your Sorting! There's nothing wrong with Slytherin house, and you should ignore anyone who says differently. We're both very proud of you.  
Remus wrote to the Potter's after we got home from Platform 9 3/4, but we haven't heard anything from them yet. If you do, let us know right away, alright? We're not sure how they're going to react.  
We're both pleased that you've made a friend. Just make sure to remember what we've taught you, keep an open mind, and don't let anyone tell you what you should think. And Lord Black says hello to his little cousin!  
Write us back and tell us how your classes are! And remember to have fun.  
Say hello to Hedwig for us,  
Love,  
Sirius & Remus_

Harry grinned at the letter, before tucking it into his bag. A part of him, just a little part, had been worried that Sirius would be mad at him for not being in Gryffindor like him and Remus. But it seemed that he had worried for nothing.

"Sirius says hello, Draco," he said to his friend as he folded the letter and stowed it in his robes. 

Draco looked pleased, reading his own letter from home.

"Really? That's good. Mother and father are both pleased with my sorting, of course. Is your godfather alright with you being in Slytherin?" he asked, looking concerned. "I know he was in Gryffindor."

"The letter says they're proud of me," Harry said, unable to quash the warm feeling in his chest, and not sure he wanted to. 

Draco smirked a little bit, as if he knew it all along.

"Of course they are," he said. "Mother says she's going to write to Lord Black, since we're friends. I told her about you, and she says it's just awful what the Potter's did."

Harry wondered what would have happened if the Malfoy's had a child who they thought was a squib. He guessed they would do the same as his birth family, and give the child up. The Potter's problem was that they had made a mistake, not that they had given up a squib. He wouldn't say so out loud, of course, at least no to Draco, but perhaps he could ask Sirius and Remus what they thought. How many squibs were there, anyway? How many children had been given up for adoption because they didn't have magic?

It bothered him. But Harry didn't have much time to think about it, because one of the upper years approached him just then.

"Look, Potter, you're on the front page," Warrington said as he showed Harry _The Daily Prophet_. The headline screamed, _POTTER TWIN? Brother of Boy-Who-Lived Appears at Hogwarts!_

Harry groaned, letting his head thump down onto the table. This was the last thing he needed. Someone had blabbed to the press.

Warrington patted him on the back.

"Can I borrow that, please?" he asked weakly. "I'd like to know what they say about me."

"You can have it, Potter," he said, chuckling. "No problem." And he dropped the paper off on the table, before heading off to his classes.

Harry picked up the newspaper, and, somewhat reluctantly, began to read.

_The incoming First Years at Hogwarts this year have a surprising addition - Adam Potter's twin brother. Students and staff alike were shocked when, after the Boy-Who-Lived went to Gryffindor, his lookalike appeared. Harry Potter, thought to be a squib after the events of Halloween ten years ago (See Page 3).  
_

_This reporter was unable to discover the reason that Mr. Potter was declared a squib, though Healer Nereus at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries says that traumatic events can delay the development of magic. Though Healer Nereus says that in such cases, it is better to wait and watch. Why the Potter's chose to give up their son is a question that is worth asking._

_Sources say that young Harry's godfather, Lord Sirius Black and his husband Remus Lupin-Black, have been searching for the boy since his birth parents sent him away. Whether Lord Black will adopt Harry Potter, or the Potter's will want to take their son back, is still up in the air._

_Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin._

_See more on the_ Boy-Who-Lived _on page 2. Read the history of Head Auror James Potter on page 4._

Well, it could be worse, Harry thought. They could have found out about the Dursley's. 

"Sirius is going to kill someone," he groaned, shoving the paper at Draco. He knew his godfather had something of a temper, and this would likely set it off. 

Draco read the paper eagerly.

"Well, it's very sympathetic," he said, folding it away. "They're on your side, at least for now. That's good."

"I guess," Harry said doubtfully. But he didn't want to be in the newspaper at all. It was private, what had happened to him. A family matter, not for the wizarding public to read about. He felt almost violated. 

Draco sighed a little bit.

"I guess it must be a shock, you having grown up with muggles and all, but in the magical world, the Potters are important people. So are the Blacks, and the Malfoys. You're going to have to get used to this."

"How can I ever get used to something like this, though?"

Draco shrugged.

"It has its upsides. With fame comes power," he said wisely, as if repeating something he had been told. "You can use it. Now, come on, or we'll be late for potions."


End file.
